Spot's Broken Girl
by Pwdluver
Summary: For the only female newsie in Brooklyn, tough is an understatement. Killer is Spot's right hand "man" and without her, Brooklyn would fall apart. What happens if Spot falls in love? Will tragedy strike the star crossed lovers? Possibly the story behind his key… hopefully better than summary, SpotxOC (Rated T just to be safe) Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Had the idea for a story and I thought I would give it a try, I'm not really sure how far I'm going to go with it so PLEASE let me know what you think! Thanks, please enjoy!**

*****Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies, but I do own my OC Killer.*****

**Chapter 1:**

Brooklyn's streets whisper the stories of those who walk on them. They hold the secrets of the homeless who find refuge on their pavement. They mourn the deaths of those who have no one else to mourn them. If you listen closely, they will tell you these stories. Though, like everyone, they have a favorite story that they tell quite often: the story of a young orphan girl.

Her name was Mary and at the age of 6, she was abandoned by her parents. If it wasn't for the generosity of Mr. Finch, the man who ran the news boy lodging house in Brooklyn, she probably would have died. He took her under his wing and treated her as one of the boys, teaching her everything she needed to know about living on the streets.

In 1898, at the age of sixteen she was one of the toughest adolescents on the streets and had been deemed "Killer" because of it. Everyone, including the great Spot Conlon feared her, not that he would ever admit it.

She wasn't like any other girl in New York at the time. She dressed in trousers and most days hid her long brown hair under a cap. She often debated cutting it but every so often it would come in handy. Her chocolate brown eyes were soft yet tired, but had a unique spark. She normally had a small smirk dancing across her lips and when she walked she was confident. Most of the time her strides were slow and calculated, she rarely hurried anywhere, though she was quick enough that if she needed to run she could. Despite the fact that she spent hours in the sun every day her skin remained fair, splashed with freckles and more often than not bruises and cuts from some sort of fight.

That particular day she had a fresh bruise forming right under her left eye across her cheek bone. It hurt dearly, but she had trained herself not to feel it.

She began to walk through the early morning fog, her only companions being the other child workers and the pavement under her bare feet. The sun hadn't even joined them yet. She yawned but pressed on, going towards the docks. As she approached, the fog off of the harbor became thicker and thicker. The only thing she could make out was a pile of crates and a figure sitting atop them. She approached him, climbing the crates to sit a step below and on his right. He looked straight ahead into the endless fog surrounding them, and she did the same, respectfully waiting for him to address her.

"Nice shinah you'se got there," he said, glancing down at her and shifting his weight to a comfortable, leisurely pose. She looked back and shrugged her shoulders, adjusting herself accordingly to face him. "Anythin' I need to worry about?"

"Nah," she replied. "I'se took care of it." He simply nodded, dropping the subject as he stood, gesturing for her to follow him.

They walked to the Distribution Center in silence. The two had worked together long enough that the silence had become comfortable, communication without words the norm. The moment they stepped through the gates of the distribution center all the laughter and chatter ceased immediately. All of the boys looked to Spot and Killer apprehensively. Spot nodded and a collective sigh of relief fell over the crowd and they went back to whatever they were doing before.

"Spot! Spot!" A squeaking voice called from the gate. Spot turned to see a small boy running towards him. The boy's name was Squirt due to his small frame and young age. Replacing his normally happy expression was a frightened one and his face was drenched in sweat.

"What's wrong kid?" Spot asked, bending down to his level and placing his hands on the child's shoulders to steady him. Before he could respond, a gang of bulky teenagers came rushing towards them. Squirt shrieked and ran behind Spot as he stood up. The kid grabbed onto the fabric of his trousers and peaked out. Spot grabbed his cane, a reflex of his when in threatening situations. When he glanced at Killer she was stroking the key around her neck absentmindedly, something he noticed she did when she was anxious. "Well, well, well," Spot continued sending an icy glare towards the invading figures. "What do we have here?"

"Your kid was causin' trouble Conlon," one of them said in a gruff voice. Spot simply raised an eyebrow.

"One o' _my_ newsies was causin' trouble?" Spot asked his eyes wide in sarcastic shock. "Now, sirs, you'se _must_ be mistaken. Squirt here is harmless," he patted the child on the head before returning a smirk to the men.

"The kid tried to steal from us," one of them said.

"That's a lie!" Squirt squeaked before bringing his head back behind Spot's leg once more. Spot looked at the kid then back at the men, before bending down to face the kid.

"Squirt," he said in a soft voice. "These guys said you tried to steal, didya?" Squirt didn't speak, rather wiped his nose and shook his head. Spot looked to the ground before speaking in a musing tone "Then why did they say that?" he asked. "Are they slow or something?" he said in a slightly louder voice to insure that the men heard. When one did, he lunged forward to Spot's back but before his fist could make contact his wrist was caught by Killer. She glared at the man and tightened her grip. Spot simply chuckled. "Now, now, you'se being disrespectful tah me. See, it isn't polite tah try tah hit someone when his back is toined."

"What are you gunna do about it?" the man said with a laugh. "Sic that girl on me?" Spot simply smiled.

"Yes," he replied. At his word Killer twisted the man's arm behind his back and pulled it until there was a satisfying cracking sound. She then used her free hand to grab his other shoulder and force him to kneel and knee him in the groin in one fluid motion. When he was down, groaning in pain, she released his wrist which now had a red mark where her hand had been. She smirked at her handy work and looked at Spot for approval. He nodded, which made her grin even more.

"For your information, this here is Killah," Spot said addressing the men. "She happens to be the toughest goil in all of Brooklyn. You mess with her, well you bettah run," he added with a laugh.

"Look, we'se don't want no trouble, just keep an eye on your kids next time," one of the other men said as they backed away, dragging the one that Killer had injured. When they were out of the gates of the Center they began to run as fast as they could away.

Spot smirked, turning back to his newsies who all applauded. He turned back to Killer and gestured with his head that they should go buy their papes for the day. She nodded and they walked over.

**So there's chapter 1 for you, please please please tell me what you think, if I should continue. I have most of chapter 2 set up so I might post that soon. **

**Also: If you are looking for a good Mush fluff story with another OC and a bit of Spot mixed in check out my other story The Different Parts of a Melody which I have been taking a break from but may continue writing soon! Thank you for taking the time to read this! :) *virtual hug***


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys, sorry I haven't posted in ages! I've been super busy with school and theatre and internships but today I was listening to Newsies and got inspired to continue! I cut this chapter in half because it's already really long like this, so keep an eye out for chapter 3! :)**

**Chapter 2:**

It was midafternoon by the time Killer and Spot had finished selling for the day. The winter had finally left New York and spring came in its place, so most of the newsies were at the docks swimming or playing. Spot went back to his perch, observing all whom he cared for, and Killer sat at her normal place on his right side. Squirt had recovered from the morning scare and was now laughing and running around with the other children.

"Careful," Spot warned when they came a bit too close to the edge. Immediately the boys stopped, looked up at him and obeyed, moving away from the water before resuming their play. At their actions Spot chuckled lightly, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead in his hand. "Killah what are we'se gunna do wit 'em?" he mused. She smirked at him and shook her head.

"You'se is stressin' yourself out, Spot," Killer stated. Spot looked up from his palm and scoffed. She raised an eyebrow and he groaned.

"So what if I is? There's not'in I'se can do 'bout it," he replies gruffly.

"Why don't you'se go to 'Hattan and play some pokah. That always cheers ya up," Spot contemplated this for a moment but shook his head.

"I'se can't leave, you'se know that," she shrugged

"Fine, then invite 'em here," he raised an eyebrow.

"Now, that, that could work, why don't you'se head over to 'Hattan and invite 'em before it gets too late."

"Why do I have to do it?" she asked sharply.

"It was your idea," he started. She simply narrowed her eyes, so he added, "and you'se know its too dangerous to send anyone else wit all the trouble on the streets lately. I'se don't trust anyone else to go." She stared at him for another moment before letting the air out of her nose and tightening her cap on her head.

"Fine," she said finally and jumped off the crates walking in the direction of Manhattan.

…

It was a rather long walk to Manhattan, but Killer didn't mind. It gave her time to think, and to dream. She would never tell anyone, but she spent most of the day with her head in the clouds. It was her only escape from the brutalities that took physical form in the searing pain which accompanied every new cut and bruise. Her philosophy was that she could escape anything as long as she has quiet and an imagination.

She realized she was close to Manhattan and grabbed the key around her neck, stroking it lightly before placing it inside of her shirt. She soon made her way to the lodging house and entered, making sure to maintain her stone cold expression.

The lobby of the lodging house was threadbare, its only furnishings being the desk in the front and a tattered couch off to the side. Its wallpaper was torn and faded, but she could still make out faint outlines of flowers climbing up the walls. She gave the room another look; it was filled with younger boys who glanced at her every so often whilst continuing their games. Kloppman sat behind the desk, scratching something carefully into a big book using a small piece of charcoal. He looked up at her through the thin glasses sitting upon his nose, trying to see if he recognized her.

She approached and smiled lightly, saying "Hey Kloppman," upon hearing her voice his expression changed into a warm smile. He and Mr. Finch have been coworkers for years, often meeting to discuss how things in the different boarding houses were going, so he had seen her grow up over the years, and had grown fond of the adolescent.

"Why, Mary," he said, "it's been ages. My, have you groan! For a moment I thought you were a boy!" She laughed.

"That's the idea sir," she replied, tugging her cap again.

"Well what brings you to Manhattan?"

"Came to see Cowboy, is he around?" she asked nonchalantly. Kloppman grinned, for he had often thought the two had feelings for each other. She rolled her eyes at his knowing expression. "Not like that, Klopp! Spot told me to invite them all to pokah tonight," she clarified laughing.

"Oh of course!" he laughed, in turn rolling his eyes as well, obviously not buying the story. "He's upstairs. You can go up, but no funny business ya see!" She chuckled stepping away from the desk.

"Thanks you old coot," she called going up the worn staircase. She returned her expression to its cold default before stepping on the upper landing. She walked through the old hallway, half naked boys with towels slung over their shoulders giving her odd looks as they passed, but she simply ignored them, finding her way into the main room filled with bunk beds and man stink, a stench that should bother a young girl but she had grown accustomed to over the years. Scanning the room she saw a couple of older boys in a group in the back of the room. She slowly approached them, quietly listening to the argument that seemed to be ensuing.

"I'm tellin' ya, man," a short curly haired boy with his back to Killer began "it's a sure thing, just spot me two bits and it'll be doubled by this time tomorra!"

"No way!" another boy wearing an eye patch replied.

"Oh come on," the curly haired boy, Racetrack, yelled, "when have I ever lost!"

"Any time you'se play me," Killer interjected. Racetrack spun around, his face looked red with anger, but he stopped himself upon seeing who it was.

"Killah!" he exclaimed nervously. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" he tried to use his smooth, "sweet talking" con man voice but Killer saw right through it.

"Spot told me to invite you bums to pokah tonight," she said simply.

"Pokah?!" Race asked, his face lighting up.

"'Ey, Race, you'se bettah not be tryin' to con the new guys into playin' again are you'se?" A voice from behind Killer said. She turned around to see a tall, handsome boy with shaggy brown hair, and mischievous brown eyes.

"Since when am I the new guy, Cowboy?" she asked raising an eyebrow. He threw his head back and laughed lightly.

"Sorry Killah, didn't recognize you'se," he replied. He then spit into his hand and held it out. She did the same and they shook. Another boy, about Jack's height with curly hair and a pressed, striped shirt came into the room. When Jack saw him he called him over. "Davey," he said addressing the stranger, "this 'ere is Killah. The toughest newsie in all of Brooklyn," she smirked at her introduction and nodded before spitting in her hand and offering it to David. He looked at her hand for a moment, and then looked back at her. He was about to say something when he looked into her eyes. Something about the way they looked told him it was best to accept her offer, spitting into his own hand and meeting to hers. She nodded, indicating that he past her test.

"Hi Killer!" he said brightly. "Glad you're visiting, sorry for the mess."

"What mess?" Blink shouted from his perch on one of the beds.

"Well, I mean look at all this shi-" he began but Jack hit him before he could continue.

"Have some manners would ya?" he said sternly.

"What did I do?"

"You'se was about to cuss in front of a lady," Pie Eater interjected from his bunk above Killers head. He didn't even look up from his comic, clearly bored with the events that were transpiring.

"What lady?!" David demanded sharply, rubbing the back of his head where Jack had struck him. Everyone looked at him as if he were crazy, even Pie Eater glanced up. Killer simply laughed. David suddenly had a look of realization, then of discust. "You're a girl?!" he asked, his face twisted as if he just ate a lemon.

"What did you'se think she was, a moose?" Racetrack asked, placing a cigar between his teeth.

"You just, you don't look like a girl," David stuttered.

"What do I look like, Davey?" She asked, her voice calm, maybe too calm. Cowboy's eyes shifted from her to David, before exchanging looks with the other boys, all of whom were getting nervous with where things were going.

"Well I mean, you look like a boy," he said simply. She raised her eyebrows and clenched her jaw. Cowboy put a hand over his face, silently cursing how much of an idiot David could be at times.

"You callin' me ugly, Davey?" her voice was low, almost a growl, as she took a step forward.

"What?! No, no!" David replied getting nervous. "It's just, you well, you um…" Cowboy was glaring at him now, as was the rest of the room. "You wear boy's clothing." Killer narrowed her eyes but before she could speak again another half-naked boy with a perfectly toned stomach appeared.

"'Ey! Killah! It's good to see you's!" he said, his face filled with a large smile. A full smile crossed her lips before she could stop it.

"Hi Mush," she said, her demeanor soft and light, a complete contrast from when she spoke to David. Mush took her hand in his, and bending at the waist he kissed it, never breaking eye contact with her. She couldn't help the blush that began to creep up her face. Suddenly, a shoe came out of nowhere and hit Mush in the face.

"Off!" Blink said, holding the other threateningly.

"I was just being polite!" Mush began and the two began to bicker. Shaking his head Cowboy turned back to Killer.

"So what brings you to Manhattan, Killer?" he asked, leaning an arm on the block, letting himself tower over her slightly. She stepped forward so they were only inches apart.

"Who says I came for anything, who says I didn't just wanna see you'se?" she asked in her best innocent voice, looking up at him through her eye lashes and making her eyes wide to create the look of an innocent doe. He leaned down a little closer before whispering in her ear.

"Because you'se know I don't fall for that crap," at these words both of them began to giggle ferociously, something that Killer rarely did with anyone. Once they had calmed down a bit he draped his arm over her shoulders, also something Killer reserved for a select few people.

"But seriously, what's going on?"

"Oh, Spot's been so stressed lately and I'se think he needs to blow off some steam so I was hoping you'se guys would come to Brooklyn and play some pokah," Jack nodded before yelling to the boys.

"'Ey, 'ey everyone! The older kids is goin' to Brooklyn, Mud, I'se is leaving you'se in charge, make sure everyone gets to bed on time, alright? All you'se bettah listen to Kloppman, I'se don't wanna hear anything bad, got it?" They all nodded or replied in an affirmative way. "Alright, you'se bums," he said referring to the boys around him. "Let's go to Brooklyn!" The boys chorused in a loud cacophony of sound and all headed over to Brooklyn with Jack and Killer leading the charge.

**Like I said it as kind of a long chapter but I have the next one written up so if you would like to read it I would appreciate a review or two! :) DFTBA!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AAAHHHH okay okay I know its been ages but I've been having computer trouble sorry! To make up for it this is a pretty long chapter. enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

The walk back to Brooklyn had been quiet. Luckily, summer days were still relatively long so they had an hour or more of sunlight for their travels. Jack waited until they reached the bridge to speak to Killer.

"So's there a story behind that shinah?" he asked nonchalantly, shoving his hands farther into his pockets. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye before shrugging. "C'mon, you'se can talk to me," she still didn't respond. He let out a heavy sigh before grabbing her arm and attempting to pull her off to the side.

"Mary," he pleaded.

"Francis," she said, looking him in the eyes for the first time in this conversation. He still held a grip on her arm but all she needed to do was look at it and he got smart enough to let go. She turned back to the bridge and began to walk, not bothering to see if he was following her or not.

"Okay, okay, I crossed ovah the line, it's none of my business, but I just worry, ya know?" She stayed silent for a moment before nodding. "Good." He said with a smile, wrapping an arm around him. "You'se is the closest thing I'se got to a little sister," feeling how cold her small frame was he wrapped her closer into his embrace, rubbing her arms with his. She laughed and hugged him back, snaking her arms around his waist. It was rare that Killer ever let her guard down, but when she did it was like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

That relief was only temporary, though because suddenly a four note whistle rang out from the shadowy streets. Her entire body tensed and she bawled the fabric of Jack's shirt in a tight fist. Jack glanced at her from the corner of his eye but decided not to say anything, but simply keeping his protective grip over her shoulders until they got to the lodging house.

…

"I'll raise you a dime," Racetrack bluffed. They were only three hands in and he was down two bucks. All of the boys sat in a circle on the floor of the main lodging room, cards and money stacked in between them like some sort of art. Killer had excused herself to go change from her everyday clothing. She went to the little room off to the side reserved for the lone girl to have a bit of privacy. She put on a simple white cotton night gown with an empire waist and short sleeves. She let her hair down from her cap and carefully brushed out all of the tangles she normally ignored. Looking in the mirror, she could see the parts of herself that she wished she could show, but they were clouded by the bruises on her skin. She tried to touch the discolored area but even pressing the pads of her fingers to it made her wince. With another gaze at the cold piece of reflective glass in front of her she decided enough was enough and instead of feeling sorry for herself she should see what the others were doing.

Killer walked into the room and looked upon the boys laughing about how into the game they all were. David glanced up at the looming figure standing across the circle from him and froze. His breath got caught in his throat as he looked at the stranger. It wasn't possible that this was the same, tough imposing person as before, was it? For the one thing, her hair was long and silky, cascading down to her mid torso in soft waves. Her face was clean and her skin was fair except for the bruise under her eye. Her nightgown showed off her womanly figure, a complete contrast to her shapeless day to day clothes. Even seeing her in this garb was so scandalous it caused him to blush and look down at his cards. He quickly glanced at the other boys to see but they seemed barely bothered at all by her. She took a seat behind Spot who glanced at her, showed her his cards and grinned while winking. She rolled her eyes before getting up again.

"Where ya goin'?" Race asked.

"None o' yer business," she called back turning into the hallway.

"She prob'bly just wants to smoke," Spot interjected.

"Why doesn't she smoke in here?" Race asked again. Spot shrugged.

"She doesn't like too much smoke in a room."

"Hey, Cowboy, is, uh, there anythin' goin' on there?" Blink said wiggling his eyebrows. Spot's eyes shot up from Blink to Jack; of course Jack noticed and thought he'd have a little fun with this.

"Why'd you ask?" he said vaguely.

"Kloppman mentioned somethin' about it," Blink said with a laugh.

"What does Kloppman know?" Spot said, almost too defensively.

"Well he can be pretty wise at times," Jack said with a grin. All of the boys looked at him with wide eyes.

"So there _is _somethin' there?!" Race asked excitedly.

"No you bums! Did all of you'se forget I'se got meself a goil?" he said, momentarily throwing down his cards. Spot sighed silently in relief.

"So you'se wouldn't mind if I, uh, spent a little more time with her?" Mush asked grinning.

"Well I'm not the one you;se needa ask," Jack said gesturing to Spot. All the boys were looking at him.

"Me? Why would I care? I don't care," Spot lied through his teeth keeping his stone cold composure. "but I'd doubt she'd go for it, she's not really one to 'date'," well that part was true at least.

"You'd be surprised Spot, I mean Killah's gunna have boys fallin' all over her soon as they figure out how pretty she's gotten," Jack said.

"Pfff, who thinks _Killer _is pretty?" Spot asked.

"I do," David added before he could think better of it, now he had Spots cold gaze unnerving him.

"You do," Spot stated, rather than asked.

"Yeah I do," David said mustering some courage before losing it again under Spot's look.

"Well I do too," Mush added.

"As do I," Blink interjected.

"Here here," Race exclaimed racing his hand. The other boys raised their hands too.

"I'se mean she scares the crap out of me but I think she's plenty beautiful," Race clarified.

"I like how feisty she is, it could come in handy for… other things," Mush said mischievously. The cards in Spot's hand were crumpled and his knuckles were white from the intensity of his grip. Luckily he was saved from the rest of this conversation when he heard light footsteps on the old wooden floors he motioned for them to shut up and go back to the game as she walked inside. She grinned and sat in the small space between Mush and Spot, and to "make room" Mush put his arm behind her and leaned into her. She smiled and rolled her eyes, a regular occurrence with these boys. Spot's blood boiled as the game continued and on for the rest of the night until 'Hattan finally left them. Before Jack left, he pulled Spot aside.

"Look, Spot, I'se not tryin' tah tell you;se how to live yer life but just keep in mind that soiten things have a small window of opportunity," and with a wink he left the lodging house, jogging to catch up with the rest of the guys. Spot watched them until they faded off into the distance of the cold dark night.

**There ya go! As always pleaseeeee tell me what you think! Pretty please?**


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